It's not just a JOB

Martin is my hairstylist at one of the best hair salons in Singapore. He is from Hong Kong, has great dress-sense, humour and definitely good looks. You can't imagine how much his customers' pays for a haircut from him. Trust me, it's simply unbelievable. A lot of tai-tais patronizes the salon and he is one of the fastest rising hairstylists in town (he will be featured in Urban under Straits Times on 21 Feb 2008). He has been doing my hair for about 4 years now and has already been promoted 3 times. Each time he gets a promotion, his charges goes up. Luckily for me, we've cultivated an almost friend-like relationship and with this he gives me good discount for my visits.

I was at the salon today and couldn't decide if I should do a perm or just a cut (But like what D says, you're paying so much for someone professional to think what look best on you, so leave it to him. And so I did). Martin thought my curls were still looking great and I should just get a trim to make them look more natural. As always, I went with his suggestion.

Martin is very enthusiastic and professional when it comes to cutting/perming/coloring. Even though the salon have 'technicians' (that's what they call people who does perms and colors) to do perms, I always have him to do for me. The perms usually last longer (at least a year). I guess he must be doing well in his career for a reason and that is simply because he is a good at what he does.

I saw how he coax an indonesian tai-tai today as she was not happy with the color on her hair. After a few moments of pacifying her he came back happily and continued cutting my hair. I asked, "it must be tough working here huh?" and he said "Not at all!". While he continued cutting my hair, through the mirror I saw a serious look on his face. And I could tell he really enjoys what he does. He loves his job!! And when I asked if he did, he said with a grim "Yes!! I have chosen the right career.".

As I was leaving a happy customer, Martin was looking at me (more my hair) with a smile. I could tell he has satisfaction written all over him for what he just did for me. Deep inside, I was envious. I wish I could have the same passion as him as I did in my job. Perhaps if I did, I could be happier in what I am doing. And perhaps then, it is not just a job.